Insurrection
by Glacious
Summary: Itachi's death throws the Coup off the rails. A conflict is on the horizon that'll change the landscape of the village forever; friendships will end, but what will become of Sasuke's and Naruko's futures? AU. Fem! Naruto.


**Naruto and all its characters are the exclusive property of Masashi Kishimoto. I do not make any money off this fic and am only using it as writing practice.**

**A/N:** I know it's short for a first chapter (or a prologue, rather), but this sets the ball rolling. Hope you enjoy, and thank you in advance for taking the time to read. I hope it's as fun to read as it was to write.

That done, let us begin.

* * *

**Prologue**

Smokestacks in the distance belched out black clouds. A thousand feet trapped in the city beneath tramped home from work in a delirious monotone. Rain slashed the window panes of grey buildings, producing a discordant sound— a storm had seized the sun as he started to set. Sleet fell. The weary lanes and the arched alleyways ran and ran— from the staccato of feet, from unending sleet, past bevelled hill and polluted rill; but the city subsisted on soles, sustained itself on souls, and the sound of oppressed stride scrunching on stone and animal bone was inescapable.

There were trees here an eternity ago, when this was still an uninhabited plain. Hashirama had sauntered through, and with a wave of his hands created life. But the path of greed had led to the wrath of the axe, and only scattered stumps stood sandwiched between shanties and shacks and rutted tracks that led nowhere.

"The people here probably don't deserve this, huh?" Naruko said. Her eyes held pity as she observed the unending human chain sluggishly waddle underneath. Lamps flickered to life. The buzz of conversation was like the buzz of locusts swarming over a field. Fecal matter on the footpath drew flies, and their steady hum sounded like the hum of human life.

"Tch," he said with a shrug, fingering his chunin vest, "we got orders."

"It's always orders, you bastard! That stream there, it's no different from the one at home. We played around it years ago, remember? Or that man—no, no, that one there! Doesn't he look like Iruka sensei? You aren't listening, are ya?" She'd worn dark clothes to blend in with the night, and now she crossed her arms and stared at him sullenly. Strands of blonde hair framed her wet face. She wasn't comfortable with this, he knew. That did not mean, however, that she in any way believed the nonsense she was babbling. When nervous, the vacuous dunderhead spouted the first thing that came to mind.

"I care," she said with a sigh, "I care what happens to these people, Sasuke. And it cuts me up that we have to—" she sighed again. "That old perv would understand, and so would sensei."

"Could you," he began drily, "spare this sentiment for after we've rigged this city with explosives?"

He did not know why they were doing it. He had not asked. What rivalry could Konoha have with this dirty city at the periphery of nowhere, this monastery of carpentry and cobbling and prostitution? The original reason was lost in a catacomb of written order, of death warrants issued at the behest of people unknown, to people unknown. Perhaps they were doing them a favour; perhaps the city being blown sky high would provoke the union of soil and soul, and the ruined remains of the city would stand as a testament to their work, as a dilapidated monument that time, over time, would claim for itself.

"That's just mean," she mumbled. She sounded sad. He idly wondered if she were even cut out to be a Shinobi. He snuck a peek at her, and her eyes were roving the crowd, trying to take in each insignificant face, each face that from this distance was a mere speck of dust. And her eyes seemed to say:_ these are the people I must deprive of breath, that must be offered as sacrifice to the god of death; and let the dour dusk hide from their eyes the serrated knife that ends their stay in the sanctuary of life. _

"It's not fair," she said softly. "It's not fair that so many people die due to us, and we go home and get to act like nothing happened. But Old man Sarutobi wouldn't ask us to hurt the innocent, would he? Hey, Sasuke, do you think these people, they're bad? They'd hurt us if we didn't hurt em first, right? Maybe that man there is a criminal and that one there a murderer and that one…but there must be people here, good people, and I—" she caught her breath. Lightning flared in the distance, and Sasuke feared for a moment that her mini existential crisis would delay them enough that they be discovered. But then she squared her shoulders and pushed her hair out of her face, and said solemnly, "for Konoha I shall ruin this city. For Konoha and my dream to be Hokage." and he let himself relax.

They dived from the tower, and into the drains they went. A guttering candle revealed a host of starved rats gnawing at the skeleton of a skylark; and the slimy passage enclosed by eroding walls slowly slithered over broken glass, to the centre of the city. Someone had crudely pencilled lewd letters into a section of the wall, some rag picker declaring his near illiteracy to the world and to some woman named Mistao. The sticky slime and the quivering walls of lime were lovers, and their union in this secret bower had produced a withered child comprised of plastic and sludge. A dog's corpse decayed in a decrepit corner. In the distance, a clock chimed the time. Slowly, they undid their belts and got to work.

* * *

"Didn't watch it, Jiji. Got out before that."

The Hokage wore a sympathetic look. You expected a man that old to be crooked and sickly, yet Sarutobi Hiruzen sat straight and had the bearing of a Kage; only the wrinkles on his face betrayed his age, the wrinkles and the genial smile that he had for an instant worn when Naruko strode into the room. Sasuke had seen the Hokage's gaze go to her distraught face, seen the smile turn a look of understanding and pride. These he had attempted to hide when she had raised her head.

"You did well," the Hokage said. "Both of you. Sasuke, I expect your written report to be on my desk by—"

"What did they do?" Naruko blurted out. She had been agitated on the journey home, snapping at him, striking a tree in a fit of fury, generally being a good-hearted grouse. "What did they do that we had to—"

Discipline reasserted itself. She offered an apology. Sarutobi waved it away and leant back, fingers steepled, a frown on his face.

"I prefer my Shinobi to know why they do what they have to," he said; then his clayey face eroded into a rueful grin and he turned to Sasuke, "but, of course, you never ask, and in this instance the thought did not occur to me that she would be so disturbed." This was a lie, Sasuke knew. The Hokage took his old man act too far— underneath that creaking exterior was the sharpest mind in Konoha. So to test them, then. Her specifically, he imagined; for his loyalty to country was, in his mind, beyond doubt.

The Hokage was still speaking. "You remind me too much of Itachi," he said softly, and that invocation was enough to prompt an involuntary stiffening of muscle, a slight jerk of the shoulders, a quick, curt nod of the head.

"You honour me, Hokage sama," Sasuke muttered. The Hokage went back to addressing Naruko.

"I shall get to the point, since, from your expressions, it is clear that neither of you has the patience to allow an old man his whims and megrims." He chuckled. "Very well, then, you must understand that this city you bombed—this civilian society— it was used as a safe haven, from time to time, by some Shinobi from Iwa. While pursuing an Iwa Shinobi who illegally encroached our territory—but that is another matter; all you need to know is, we pursued that Shinobi to this place, and this is where we lost the trail. This, along with a few other things, told us that the sympathies of the people there belonged with Earth Country. Its continued existence as an industrial hub, during war, would have been detrimental to us, as it offered their soldiers a place to rest and a route for retreat. And since it was included in no peace treaty, nor had actively declared its allegiance to Iwa…

"But that is merely from a strategic standpoint. The immediate reason is easier to grasp. We suspected that the territory was being used to illegally supply Iwa with Shinobi tools, and that it was a channel via which wheat and rice from Rice country were being sent to Earth country. The forges there—you must have seen them… no? Well, what a shame. Well, the forges there, we knew, could in theory provide them with the tools that a report stated—but these are all just technicalities. In conclusion, let us say that your destabilizing that region has helped us strangulate Iwa economically as well as tactically; that in doing this you have saved several lives, several lives of Konoha Shinobi, Konoha people. Oh, yes. For every man you killed last night you saved two—two of ours, and for that alone Konoha is greatly indebted to you."

Naruko's eyes had grown glassy, and she was nodding along. Sasuke himself had seen several holes with the whole thing—the terminology, specifically, for the Hokage never hinted at any concrete evidence, only vague suspicions and sketchy reports—but it was not for him to question, and he did not.

"Allow me, as a token of our gratitude, to give the two of you…" The Hokage rummaged around, fished out two plastic packaged green vests from his drawer. "We have to make hard choices in our lives," he whispered, "for friend, for family, for country, for the will of fire. And it is never easy. But when your mother's cry calls out for you, you go; you do what she asks you to, for her sake, for the sake of all those you love. You two, you two are true Shinobi, and your motherland thanks you. You are hereby promoted to Jonin."

They both took their vests without a word. Sasuke noticed out of the corner of his eye that Naruko had cheered up slightly.

"You are like a daughter to me, Naruko," the Hokage said tenderly. "And believe you me, you are closer now than ever before to someday letting this old man retire. I am proud of you. And Sasuke, it has been a privilege to see you grow and carry forward the very will of fire that kindled in your brother's bosom. I am glad. The two of you are free to leave now. Sasuke, please give Fugaku my regards."

* * *

**A/N:**** And thus begins a new AU. The Uchiha Coup got cancelled (sort of; postponed would be a better word) due to Itachi's early demise (due to illness). Fugaku turned his attention to Sasuke, and thus destiny was forever changed. **

**As clarifications:**

**The main characters are both 17 rn.**

**The Akatsuki isn't a thing, and this is a Leaf centric work. Canon, for the purposes of this fic, did not happen.**

**Obito died when trapped under that landslide, Madara died at the end of the first war, when Hashirama offed him, and while everything post that is mostly the same, events that happened due to Tobi/ Madara/ Zetsu trying to revive Kaguya did not happen. If you got any questions outside that, feel free to ask. **

**Thanks for reading, and please leave a review! **


End file.
